The Jones Family Line
by indyjones1990
Summary: The Great-Grandson of Indiana Jones finally gets to see his great-grandfathers belongings that have been locked away in a room in his grandfathers house, just before he goes on the greatest adventure of his life.


Chapter 1.

Garret "Henry" Jones McClain.

17 year old Garret "Henry" Jones was bored. He hated Geometry, and he hated being couped up. He was looking forward to his churches mission trip to South America. Not just because he was finally getting out of the States, but because he was going to be near an old ghost town that he was going to get to explore. While his geometry teacher rambled on about the angle of some triangle, Garret thought about everything he was going to get to do. And it all started tomorrow! He couldn't wait. His great-grandfather, Henry Jones the Third, said he had some surprises for him. Garret liked his grandfather. All the stories he had told Garret about his great-grandfathers adventures. About the first time he met his father, and about all of the adventures they had together. Garret always enjoyed looking at the old pictures his grandfather had. Pictures of archaeological digs, beautiful cities, and antique airplanes. Garret had made it a quest when he was young to figure out what airplane was what, and then to one day fly on one. So far, he had gotten to fly on a Ford Tri-Motor, but that was all. His favorite that was in all of the pictures his grandfather kept was the Boeing 314 "Clipper." Garret loved the looks of that plane. He'd found pictures of 314's on Google and in magazine articles. He thought about the cramped, jet propelled 757 he was taking to Vancouver, then again on the 314. _Flying was glamorous back then,_ he thought. He was soon snapped back into the real world when the bell rang for lunch. _Thank God._

Later that evening, Garret found himself walking up the front stairs to his grandfathers house. It was an old house that was owned by his great-grandfather. Garret wondered what secrets the old house held inside. He opened the door to the kitchen and found his grandfather sitting at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich.

"Hey, grandpa."

"Hey, Garret. How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks. How are you?"

His grandfather smiled sadly. "I'm tired, but other than that, I'm fine."

"I'm sorry you're tired. Do you need any help around here?" Garret asked, looking around at the ridiculously messy living conditions of his grandfathers house.

"No. I'm fine."

Garret nodded his understanding. His grandfather was a proud man. He didn't like to ask people for help. "So, you said you had something for me?"

"Ah, yes! It's upstairs. I'll show you."

Garret shuddered a bit. He had never been upstairs before. It looked like he was going to learn a few of this houses secrets today. His grandfather led him up the stairs to the second story of the house, then down the hall towards the last room. He unlocked the door, and opened it slowly.

"Your mother never wanted you to see this. She said she didn't want you to become like her grandfather. She said it would only hurt you. But I want you to see this."

Garrets grandfather ushered him into the old room. There were old books strewn all over the place. Pictures of old artifacts. The Ark of the Covenant, the Holy Grail, golden idols from countless South American countries. A picture of a crystal skull. Garret looked at all of them, taking in all of the information his mind could process. He didn't see his grandfather smile.

"Your mother was right. You have the archaeologist bug in you. And by the looks of it, it's bitten hard."

Garret looked at his grandfather and smiled. He found more pictures of other old airplanes, a picture of his great grandmother when she was about his age. On a coat rack was a very old brown fedora, a leather jacket that had seen better days, and a whip that had been used once or twice. On a desk was a holster that had a gun in it. Garret was no expert with guns, but it looked to be about a .38. It was really old , too. Garret felt like a kid in a candy store. Most of this stuff was from his favorite eras, from 1900 to 1950. He sucked in every bit of writing, every note ever made by his great-grandfather. A key chain hung on an old thumbtack. He looked at the writing on the old paper. It read:

_'31 Plymouth._

Garrets jaw fell open. He looked over at his grandfather. "Is this..."

His grandfather laughed. "Yes. She's in the garage, gassed up and ready to go. If you want her."

Garrets eyes went wide. "If I want her?"

"Everything in this room is yours. The hat, the jacket, the whip, the car. Anything you might be interested in. And I have a few clothes for you to try on."

garret sat down heavily in a chair and found himself looking face to face with his great-grandfather. Garret had gotten to meet him once when he was 5. He had told Garret to do whatever he wanted to do, be whoever he wanted to be, so long as he was happy. Garret had never been happy with himself, and he had always wondered if he was making his great-grandfather proud. Even though he had never truly known him, he felt a very strong pull towards him. Maybe it was all of the stories his grandfather had told him. Maybe it was the mysteriousness of everything his great-grandfather had done in his life. Whatever it was, it was a feeling that Garret had always clung to. It made him feel like he belonged. A tear started flowing down his cheek. He looked up at the coat rack and reached for the fedora. He placed it on his head, almost as if he was afraid it would break if he wasn't careful. He looked in the mirror. He was the absolute spitting image of his great-grandfather. He smiled. Now, he had finally found his place. He looked at his grandfather. "I want everything here. But, can some of it stay here?"


End file.
